Reunion
by silentlullabye
Summary: The McKinley High class of 2012 meets up for their ten year reunion. Many people have changed, and some have remained the same. Multiple pairings. Slash. Het. Femmeslash. Language. Q/F F/R S/Q B/K M/T A/OC S/OC EDITED.


Reunion

A Glee Fic

* * *

><p>The gym was decorated with thousands of paper banners in the school colors of red and white. The bleachers had been put away, shut up against the walls. Tiny tables were set up along the outer rim of the gym, and each table was decorated in a red or white table cloth. Chairs surrounded the tables, each with a balloon tied to the back. There was a refreshment table underneath one of the basketball goals, and on it sat a punch bowl and hors d'œuvres (which were basically just snack food for grown-ups). In the corner there was a makeshift bar, and the bartender was already busy preparing the incoming orders. A DJ was set up under the other basketball goal.<p>

Rachel Berry had to admit that the lingering smell of sweaty gym socks and body odor was more welcoming than the cheesy decorations that seemed to be at every high school reunion since the dawn of time. But it was quaint, she'd give it that. After ten years, it was worth it just to see where all of her old peers had ended up. Especially the glee club.

It might seem odd to miss singing in front of dozens with a high school glee club when, as a star on Broadway, you sang for thousands every night. But glee club had given Rachel her start, and it deserved a revisit as a thank you.

Then again, it could simply be the longing urge to see him.

Finn Hudson looked exactly as she remembered him except he was losing his hair. He wore the diligent polo shirt and pants of a once popular man who was now reduced to a life as part of the American nuclear family. Rachel thought he looked great.

"Hi, Finn." He almost choked on his glass of punch.

"Rachel! I didn't think you'd come." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and tried to look nonchalant, but he was struggling greatly due to the woman before him. Gone were the horse sweaters and knee socks of high school. The brunette before him wore a startling green cocktail dress, diamond earrings, and carried a small black clutch in one hand. Her hair was pulled back and up, leaving her face, with her wide brown eyes, revealed. She was beautiful. She always had been.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She crossed her arms over her chest mockingly, delicately balancing her clutch under one arm, and her drink in the other hand.

He gestured at the air. "You know, cause of you being a big star now, and everything."

She smiled. "Gotta stay true to my roots."

"I guess."

She fidgeted with a loose thread on her bodice. Somehow, this conversation with the one person she wanted to see was turning out to be rather awkward.

"Kurt told me you took over his dad's shop."

Finn grinned sheepishly. "No, I just work for him. I mean, I might take over when he retires but, Burt, he'll work 'till he can't work anymore; just the kind of guy he is."

"Hmm," she agreed. "So, how are you Finn?"

"I'm good, I guess."

"Single?"

The smile slid slowly from his face. He shook his head. "Kind of, but not really. I mean, we're separated; haven't lived together for six months now."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah." But his gaze lost its focus on her and glanced over her left shoulder. Rachel turned to look, and found Quinn striding towards them. It was as if she didn't even notice Rachel, she just walked up to Finn, a pissed look on her face.

"Finn. I thought we'd agreed you'd come from eight to nine, and I'd come from seven to eight. Why are you here at seven-thirty?" She poked him in the chest with her red purse.

Time had been good to Quinn Fabray. She still looked like the head cheerleader. Her hair was shorter, cut around her face, and there was more weight around her hips as if she had had a few more kids, but otherwise, she looked much the same. She wore a navy blue dress that skimmed her knees, and her short hair was gently curled.

"Quinn, these were my friends, too. No way are you gonna dictate my every move. I can be here whenever I want to be."

Her face deepened its frown. "Fine. But don't expect me to play Mrs. Happy Wife in front of everyone. Because I am not happy, and in five months I won't be your wife!"

"You got married?" And finally Quinn turned and noticed Rachel standing beside them.

"Rachel. So good to see you." The falsity of her remark shone through, but Rachel just smiled at her. But Quinn did not answer the question, so Rachel turned to Finn.

"You got married?"

"Two years after graduation."

Quinn smirked. "And look now, Finn. Eight years and two kids later, we still fight like high-schoolers."

"You had kids?"

It was Finn who answered, trying to avoid Quinn's searching gaze. "Yeah. We have a little girl, Grace, who's four and a little boy, Ryan, who's two."

"Wow. Um, congratulations."

Quinn decided that her conversation with Rachel had ended, so she turned back to Finn. "You know what? Fine. Stay here then. I don't care anymore. Just remember that you're supposed to pick up the kids later." And she sashayed off.

"Divorce, huh?"

Finn looked at her. "It was the best option. Better than one of us getting arrested for battery."

Rachel's eyebrows rose. "You attack her?"

Finn shook his head and raised the hem of his polo shirt to reveal a small purple bruise. "Nope. She likes to throw frying pans and irons when she gets pissed."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I mean, we were happy together, it just got…strained. Right now I'm living with my mom and Burt; I let Quinn keep the apartment."

She stared at him, contemplating.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just trying to picture you as a dad."

"How do I look?"

She smiled. "You look good."

**.**

Mercedes Jones-Holloway looked absolutely divalicious in Kurt Hummel's opinion.

They sat together at a little table near the DJ, Mercedes filling Kurt in on all the drama in her life.

She had recently filmed a movie. It was a small role – a nightclub jazz singer – but she saw it a step in the right direction. Kurt complimented her choice of dress, saying it beautifully emphasized her pregnant figure.

That had been the first thing Kurt had noticed when he saw her; the baby bump under her red dress. Naturally, he had gushed over her and it, saying all the right things. But his heart wasn't here.

Honestly, he'd rather be back at him hotel.

But he'd been the diligent friend, listening to how wonderful Mercedes' husband, Raymond, was, and how perfect their life together was.

It only served to make Kurt feel lonelier than usual. Eventually, Raymond arrived to take Mercedes home, and Kurt had made the proper goodbye talk. But after his beautiful black diva had exited the stage, he felt the emptiness inside him, and so sought out someone he could talk to; someone who would understand.

He found her sitting alone at a table across the court. Her bag sat on the table next to her empty wine glass, and her shoes were tucked underneath the chair, her bare feet crossed at the ankle.

"Hey Rach." She looked up and smiled at him as he approached, gesturing to the chair beside her.

"Did you see Finn?" He asked, taking the offered chair.

She nodded, her updo bobbing. "Yeah. We talked. He said he needed to mingle, so I came over here."

"Yeah. A bunch of football guys just got here."

"Yeah." She played with the paper tablecloth, twisting it in her hands. "Hey, Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you never told me Finn and Quinn got married? That they had kids?"

Kurt knew she would find out. He had been expecting this.

"I could have sworn I said something to you-"

"No, I don't think you ever did."

"Does it matter? Finn and I haven't kept in touch all that much since I moved to New York."

"Look, I know you think you were protecting me, but Kurt, I'm over Finn. You could have just told me, instead of letting me show up here not knowing, like a fool."

Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry."

She gazed at him, dropping the tablecloth, and reached over to catch his hand and hold it. Her face lit up with a smile. "So how is Mercedes? I said hello, but she was on her way to the bathroom and couldn't talk."

"She's pregnant."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I could tell. That wasn't what I meant."

"She's good; living the good life."

Rachel's grin faded slowly and she looked off into the distance. "Well, the good life isn't all it's cracked up to be. You and I know that."

Kurt nodded to himself. The life of a star could be a lonely one, and so Kurt knew she understood his feelings. Being here and surrounded by all these people. It made him feel alone and vulnerable.

"You ever think about retiring?"

The tinkling of her laugh startled them out of the stupor. "At twenty-eight? Hell no!"

Kurt giggled with her. He knew that feeling as well. The stage was so addicting. It didn't matter what sacrifices you had to make to remain there, it was worth it for the rush, and the thrill.

"So, are you doing the Chicago revival?" Kurt was curious to know.

"I haven't decided yet. I might take a break for a while. Just a few months. Maybe travel – for fun and not work – see the world."

"Sounds like fun."

"It would be."

"Care for a friend to tag along?"

She turned to stare at him, question in her eyes. "I thought you were doing that new musical, the Damon one?"

"Damon Wise? Hell no, he can't write for shit, and I wouldn't dirty myself by being in one of his productions."

Rachel laughed manically and gasped when she snorted.

"You really hate him, don't you?"

"You know why."

"Yeah, I do." More laughter.

Rachel slipped back into her shoes and gestured to the hallway. "I need the ladies room."

"Is that an invitation?" Kurt asked, mockingly polite.

"Oh, ha ha." But he did follow her. When she slipped into the ladies, he continued down to the men's.

He was washing his hands when he was joined by and old classmate. The other guy turned and noticed him.

"Kurt?" Kurt nodded, and tried to keep his dignity as old high school fears overtook him. "I've been looking all over for you."

He steadied his voice. "You have? Why?"

Karofsky turned to face him. He had lost a lot of weight, and now wore a perfectly tailored suit with a red tie. He seemed nervous; fidgety. "I wanted to…I wanted to apologize to you."

Kurt's face contorted with shock. "What?" The final two years of high school, David Karofsky had made some changes in his behavior. He and Santana had created the Bully Whips, a club to protect the many student victims of bullying. But even though Dave and he had come to an understanding when Kurt had returned to McKinley, they had rarely spoken after that, and never once had Dave treated him as he did now, with respect, understanding, and a yearning to be forgiven.

"Look, I know I did a lot of horrible things to you in high school. But I want you to know I'm a different man now. I got some counseling and some anger management to work out my issues."

"Well that's… good."

"Yeah. I do a lot of yoga now."

"I'm glad, Karofsky. Good for you." Kurt tried to hurry on to the exit, but Karofsky was between him and the door.

"I also wanted to say thank you." And this, more so than the apology, made Kurt pause mid-breath, and stare at the once hulking Neanderthal before him.

"For what? Not calling the cops?" He almost cringed when the quip left his mouth. He was provoking the beast.

But Karofsky laughed. He laughed! "Yeah, that too. But I really wanted to thank you for setting an example for me."

The confused look on Kurt's face spurred Karofsky to continue. "For being so open and honest. Not taking any shit from anyone, even when I made your life hell. When I was a senior in college, I finally looked at myself in the mirror one day and decided to stop lying to myself."

"Oh my God."

"I accepted myself as a gay person, Kurt, and I want to thank you for helping me see that I could be happy."

"You, know, I'm really happy for you, Karofsky-"

"Dave, please."

"Dave. I'm glad you're happy being who you truly are." And now Kurt felt empowered to reach for the bathroom door. But Karofsky put a hand on his arm. It wasn't hurtful, merely a light touch to let Kurt know he had more to say.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you: could I buy you dinner sometime? I _really_ want to say thank you."

"Uh, maybe, Dave. But, uh, I live in New York, so maybe we should just call it a day. You're welcome for whatever it is that I did to help you. Good luck on all your future endeavors, and I'm glad we got to have this talk." Kurt tried to keep his words from running together as he finally bid farewell to Dave Karofsky.

The minute he exited the bathroom, he found a giggling Rachel standing outside.

"Did you know?"

She wiped a tear of joy from her eye as she answered. "What, that bully Dave Karofsky is gay and totally has a crush on you? Why on earth would you think that?"

He shoved her playfully in the arm and stomped back to the gym, a still laughing Rachel following behind.

"And you wonder why I keep secrets from you, Ms. Didn't-know-Finn-and-Quinn-got-married.

Her laughter started up anew.

**.**

Brittany Pierce was not having the best night. So far, she had had her singleness rubbed into her face by the married and blissfully happy Mike and Tina. And then, she had met Artie and his college sweetheart Melanie, along with their newborn son.

Brittany was realizing how much she had missed; what she had given up. Her job as part owner of a catering and bakery business seemed dull compared to the lives of her old classmates.

Artie was a computer tech, and Melanie was a nurse. Tina was a lawyer and Mike owned a nightclub. Everyone seemed to be happy except for her.

She stood near the punch table, having already used both of her drink tickets for the bar. The punch was disgusting, but she downed it anyway, trying to pretend that each glass was a shot of tequila.

She was considering just leaving, but she hadn't seen the one person she had been longing to see.

But oh, there she was.

Santana Lopez hadn't aged a day. Her hair was longer, and she wore more make-up, but she was still the most beautiful girl Brittany had ever seen. She was wearing a slinky brown mini dress, with dark green heels. Her hair was intricately braided, and each braid swooped around the others in a maze of hair, all of it falling into a loose sheen down her back.

Brittany knew she had become a very successful model. She had clippings posted at home on a corkboard: some from magazines, others just pictures from the internet.

She was chatting with some other former cheerleaders, but Brittany felt a tingle run down her spine when Santana looked over and caught her eye. Brittany watched as she excused herself and made her way over.

"Hi Brit."

"Hi."

There was a moment of awkward silence as they realized why they hadn't spoken in ten years. The history settled between them, and neither wanted disturb it.

"So, how have you been?"

Brittany tightened her hands around her punch glass. I've been missing you like crazy. I should never have let you go. I want you back so bad. All these thoughts ran through her head, but all she could say was:

"Alright. You?"

"Good." Further conversation was preempted by the arrival of another woman, one Brittany didn't recognize. She had black hair, cut into a spiky style over her ears. She wore black skinny jeans and a shiny black top, and a single green stone hung on a chain from one ear.

But it wasn't the appearance that threw her. It was the way she had walked up and wrapped her arms around Santana's waist. And it was how Santana had automatically leaned back against her.

"Hi! Tana, aren't you going to introduce me?" Santana's eyes, which had lit up when the woman had shown up, turned to gaze once again at Brittany. The woman relaxed her hold, and simply held Santana's hand and stood next to her.

"Um, Megan, this is Brittany, and old cheerleading pal of mine. Brittany this is Megan, my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." Megan stuck out her hand and Brittany shook it, still in a bit of shock. Santana was taken. She wasn't single. Brittany had no chance with her. She had blown that chance long ago.

"And you."

"Megan is a photographer. That's actually how we met," Santana explained.

"Oh."

Santana was still smiling, but it killed Brittany inside to know it could never be for her.

They chatted for a few moments more, but then Brittany finally excused herself and walked out to her car. Once seated inside, she slumped against the steering wheel, depressed.

Santana had moved on. Brittany had missed her chance. And she would have to live with that.

**.**

Rachel and Kurt kept close together for a while, mingling with everyone.

They had run into a Mohawk-less Puck, wearing a business suit. Rachel remembered Puck's band being insanely popular for a while, but he had explained that now he wrote for _Rolling Stone_ magazine, traveling and seeing all sorts of awesome things. He was still good friends with Lauren, but both had realized that the relationship thing between them wasn't working and so had split in college. Puck was single, and happy about it.

His change was the most drastic of everyone they had run into. Even Sam Evans had stumbled into the stereotyped role of NFL player. Not much of a surprise. But Rachel was disappointed that he had given up singing.

They had met Artie's wife and son, and exchanged pleasantries with Mika and Tina, but eventually, they were ready to leave. Rachel offered to drive Kurt to his hotel, as he had taken a cab to the school.

But before they could leave, Kurt got pulled into a conversation with Tina and Santana.

So Rachel hung around the door, waiting. She had been there ten minutes when Finn found her.

"Whatcha doing?"

She gestured toward Kurt, who was looking as though he could murder someone if he couldn't escape the conversation soon. "I'm waiting. I'm his ride."

"Oh." Rachel followed his gaze to where Quinn stood talking with Sam.

"Something wrong?"

He looked at her, and she could see the wear in his eyes. He was older than he appeared. "She's sleeping with him."

Rachel whipped her head back to Quinn and Sam. "What?"

"He came to dinner last summer. I think it was about then that she started sleeping with him."

"She was having an affair?"

Finn nodded, still staring at his soon to be ex-wife. "It's one of the reasons we separated."

"What were the others?"

"She accused me of cheating?"

Rachel looked taken aback. "She accused _you_ of cheating when she was running around with Sam?"

"Yeah. She said that I might not actually be physically cheating, but that I was cheating mentally and emotionally by thinking about someone else."

"Wow, okay. I always knew Quinn was the jealous type, but geez."

"She was right."

"I mean, wow, she's just so hypocri- Wait what?"

"I was cheating on her mentally and emotionally with someone else."

Rachel's mouth hung open.

"Two years ago I had to go to New York to talk with a potential client. This was back when I was still in construction. While I was there I saw this amazing show."

It was slowly dawning on Rachel where this was going, and she wasn't sure she was okay with it. "Finn-"

"I saw you. And I remembered all the amazing things that I loved about you. God, Rachel, I've been in love with you since I was a sophomore in high school. I deserved everything Quinn ever said about me. She was right. I was thinking about you. Thinking about how different my life would have been if I'd stayed with you."

"But you didn't…"

"That's my point. But I'm not with Quinn anymore, Rachel. And now, I sort of want to be with you."

He let the statement hang in the air between them.

"So you've suddenly decided that you made a mistake and that I should just take you now that you'll have me?" The fire in her eyes quickly turned Finn on to the dangerous territory he was entering.

"No, Rachel, I just… I made a mistake. Okay, a lot of mistakes. But I want to get my life together. I want to try to rectify the mess I've made of my life. And that includes my relationship with you."

She was silent, but the fire ebbed out of her brown eyes a little.

"Even if we can only be friends, I would still take that over not seeing you at all."

Rachel could see that Kurt was finally disengaging himself from conversation and making his way over.

"Okay, Finn, look. I'm taking a bit of a vacation from the business for a little while, and I was thinking of coming here to see my dads, and maybe even drop in on Shelby. So… if you want, we could try dinner one night."

Immediately a smile lit up his face. "Really?"

"It's just a dinner. I'm not guaranteeing anything."

"Doesn't matter. Dinner's a start!"

Kurt was beside them. He nodded at Finn, and then turned to Rachel. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." As they exited, Rachel turned back and smiled at Finn. "I'll call you to set up a time."

And the look in his eyes made her heart melt a little.

**.**

It was early the next morning and Kurt was tired of lounging around his suite in his terry-cloth bath robe. So he decided to reminisce, and made the short walk to his favorite coffee shop.

It had been years since he'd ventured into the Lima Bean. It was primarily a hangout for Dalton Academy students, and once Kurt had transferred back to McKinley, he had stopped visiting.

The place still looked the same as he remembered, and everywhere he looked were Christmas decorations, despite Thanksgiving having occurred only the week before.

He waited through three other customers before reaching the barista. He was going to order one of the Christmas specials, but decided that for old time's sake, he would get the usual.

"Um, hi, can I get a-"

"Grande Non-Fat Mocha Latte?"

Kurt turned sharply and found himself face to face with Blaine, the first boy he'd ever loved, and also the last serious boyfriend he'd had in forever. Flings were simpler when you were an actor.

He looked amazing, of course. He still kept his hair perfectly styled, and still wore a tailored suit just like he had in college. The awkwardness Kurt would have expected between two people who were exes didn't appear, and for that he was grateful.

"Hi."

Blaine smiled, and then turned to the barista. "I've got his. And can I get a medium drip please?"

She nodded and stepped away to make their drinks.

"Still know my coffee order, huh?" Kurt grinned. Blaine looked exactly the same as he did on the cover of his latest album, still so charming and charismatic.

"Of course, dummy." Blaine paid the barista and they made their way to a table.

He really wanted to skip all the 'How have you been?'s and just talk like old friends.

"Look Blaine, can we just be friends and ignore the whole exes thing?"

Blaine paused mid-sip and stared at him, then quickly sat his cup down. "Um, okay."

"No, it's just cause," he sighed. "I really miss us being friends and I know that after we broke up we didn't really talk. I miss that."

"I do too."

Thinking back, Kurt tried to recall the exact reason why they had split, but came up blank. It was a combination of lots of reasons. Blaine would be graduating a semester ahead of Kurt because of different classes. They had already starting seeing less of each other. They were going into different fields of music, and they each had different groups of friends.

In the end they had sort of just separated. No formal breakup, just a silent goodbye and they each continued moving down alternate paths.

But they weren't on different paths now.

"So, can we just, I don't know, get coffee again sometime? I'm in town for a few days."

Blaine smiled. "Me too. I just got done touring and I'm exhausted. I came home to see my parents."

"Me too."

"And the reunion, of course."

"Right. I went. Everything was different and yet, at the same time, stunningly the same."

Blaine sat his cup on the table and leaned forward slightly. "Can I be honest? I knew you were in town and I only came here for coffee because I was hoping to run into you."

Kurt stared. "Here I am."

Blaine chuckled. "Here you are. You look exactly the same."

Kurt tried to look miffed, but failed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. You look great."

Kurt pushed his cup around with his fingertips.

"Kurt, I know in college we… well, we drifted. But I want to get us back on track. I really have missed hanging out with you. Gossiping and singing and annoying the crap out of Mercedes and Rachel."

Finally Kurt cracked a smile. "That was always fun."

"Exactly. Listen, let's have dinner tomorrow night. As friends. We can start all over again."

"Start over?"

"Yep. New and right as rain."

Kurt looked thoughtful for a moment, then sat up straighter and held out his hand.

"Hi. I'm Kurt. It was so sweet of you to buy me coffee before beating me up for spying."

Blaine's mouth gaped but then he laughed and fell into the swing of the situation.

"I wouldn't beat you up. And by the way you're the worst spy in the world. But, I'm Blaine. Nice to meet you." And he shook Kurt's hand.

"How kind of you. Tell me, are all the people here…you know…gay?"

Blaine stayed in character and looked around at the patrons of the Lima Bean. "Nope. But I am. Single too."

Kurt laughed. "Whoa, let's not get carried away. I like to get to know someone before I date them."

Blaine crinkled his eyebrows together. "Isn't the point of dating getting to know one another? You do that before sleeping with someone, sure, but getting to know them before a date?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Well, I wouldn't know a thing about that." Blaine couldn't laugh as his mind filled with nineteen-year-old Kurt in their bed, beneath him. "I always thought that the most romantic gesture was a simple touch of the fingertips along someone's hand."

Instinctively, Blaine reached out and took Kurt's hand, brushing his fingers lightly over the surface.

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "Now you've got it."

"So dinner, tomorrow?"

The smile widened. "It would be my pleasure."

It wouldn't have been a proper reunion any other way.

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, I did my very best to keep them in character, but I think sometimes they step out for a bit. But hey, you win some, you lose some. Also, this is most probably AU after season 2.

UPDATE: September 12, 2011 this story has been edited.

Please review. I don't care if all it says is "great fic", any message, big or small, is encouraging and makes me smile.

Thanks for reading!

sl

**Disclaimer: Glee is the property of Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan.**


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